


friction burn

by wildlings (candybank)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life AU, etcetera etc, hs sweethearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 01:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18110507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybank/pseuds/wildlings
Summary: maybe we will wake up to the silence of shoes at the foot of the bed not going anywhere.





	friction burn

they’re fast friends. it’s halfway through the school year when wonwoo moves into town. halfway through his first week at school when seungkwan, the big third-grade bully, steals his lunch. halfway through the day and everything is awful. it’s halfway through lunch time when mingyu sees him sitting all by himself. wonwoo is sad and hungry and it’s not hard to tell—he has been an open book since the first day they met. 

mingyu has always been good at reading people—writing stories.

he sits beside wonwoo and gives him half of his ham sandwich—the first stroke of ink on the first page of their biography. wonwoo says thank you, mingyu says don’t mention it. they talk about math and it’s so hard and i can’t memorize anything past table of 6 and i have an extra pink crayon if you need it.

and before they know it, a chapter of their life has passed.

primary school flies by, then middle school, then high school. mingyu becomes everything he ever said he would be. scientist, star athlete, spelling bee champion. wonwoo says mingyu, you’re going to be president one day, and mingyu laughs and says it’ll only happen if you run my campaign.

wonwoo’s not sure what he wants, or what he wants to be. he thinks he wants to be as confident as mingyu someday. he thinks of a lot of things, and he doesn’t seem to know much, but what he does know is that mingyu deserves everything in the world. so, while he tries to figure himself out, he runs mingyu’s student body president campaign like he promised he would. 

and it works. they win. party at my house, mingyu yells, while wonwoo puts up streamers and banners and balloons. they celebrate and they drink booze that jihoon sneaks in for them, and they dance all night and talk under the stars all night.

and they kiss for the first time.

and it’s confusing— _wildly_  confusing. pupils dilated, lungs empty, hearts beating fast and stomachs turning, and mingyu throws up all over the carpet.  _fuck_ , he exclaims, while wonwoo gets the mop and the lysol.

the months after that are slow, weird and awkward; the months before graduation. mingyu hangs around wonwoo like he doesn’t want to be there. he sits with wonwoo at lunch but he doesn’t eat. wonwoo waits for him and they walk home together, but they never talk.

the sun always sets on them, and it always takes too long to rise again.

but sometimes, they’ll be sitting in mingyu’s room alone, math homework half done, and mingyu will hold wonwoo’s hand. sometimes, on hot saturdays, they’ll be listening to music, laying in bed, and they’ll kiss each other until the sky gets dark. sometimes, when the world’s eyes are turned away from them, when they’re far away from each other, wonwoo will think that they can be something. 

“it’s not like that,” mingyu says, the tassel of his graduation cap hanging over his face. and wonwoo is smart enough to know what this is. 

“come on, min—“

“it was just,” mingyu stops, irises trembling. jaw locked, fist tight, knuckles white. he shakes his head, and he’ll say he doesn’t know what it means.

wonwoo bites his lip so hard that the surface tries to burst. “sure,” he clears his throat. and he can’t do what mingyu does. he can’t pat him on the back or hug him or shake his hand when he wants to say something else. 

“let’s quit while we’re ahead,” mingyu blurts out.

wonwoo stares at him for an eternity, “you don’t know how to quit.”

though it’s a gash, it’s a temporary scar. the wound closes fast and they’re back in each other’s arms. a messy suture bursting at the seams at best, but wonwoo feels so happy when he’s with mingyu that he doesn’t notice his skin tearing. 

they go to universities two cities apart, and driving four hours thrice a week becomes the easiest thing to do. somewhere between happy birthday and i love you, mingyu says,

“we should break up.” 

“okay.” 

and it’s easier the first time than it is the third. the third time mingyu says it, wonwoo throws a wine bottle against the wall.

“quit while we’re ahead?” the bottle shatters, glass on the floor, red on the wallpaper like blood. and wonwoo never talks this loud. he’s talking so loudly that he can’t hear himself. “is that what you’re going to say again?”

but mingyu isn’t saying anything, and wonwoo is wondering why he isn’t saying anything. he can’t do what mingyu does. he can’t guess what people are thinking with a glance, or try to rewrite anything that has happened.

“what are we even getting ahead of, mingyu?” wonwoo’s voice is shaky, and he can’t be loud enough to be loud. he opens his mouth to speak again, but his lungs feel clogged with seafoam. he takes a deep inhale and he feels like throwing up.

“i can’t do this anymore,” he says, “i can’t keep doing this. … why do you do this, mingyu?

you never give anyone a reason for anything that you do.”

but mingyu isn’t saying anything, and wonwoo doesn’t have to wonder why.

“am i just anyone?”

mingyu sighs.

“do you have anything else to say to me?”

he shakes his head.

wonwoo nods, picks his bag up off of the floor and heads to the door. he says, “i’ll call you when i get back,” but it takes him half a year.

apologies and caution tape and let me fix this, i can make this better, i’m better now, i am. wonwoo tells mingyu that he only gets one more shot at getting this right. it’s ten years after high school and wonwoo thinks he’s finally as confident as mingyu is.

and he thinks he can do what mingyu does now—smiling when he doesn’t mean to, nodding when doesn’t mean to, saying goodbye when he doesn’t mean to. minghao says come with me, or one last dinner, or just promise you won’t delete my number. wonwoo says i can’t, i won’t, i have to. it’s ten years after high school and wonwoo thinks he finally knows what he wants.

“your turn to get breakfast,” he groans sleepily into the crook of mingyu’s neck.

mingyu rubs his eyes for a minute before burying a kiss into wonwoo’s hair. “ _ow_ ,” wonwoo exclaims as mingyu laughs, kicking his own ass out of bed, forcing his shoulders into a jacket and his feet into slippers. and he’s so sleepy that he almost falls down the stairs on the way to the door.

“coffee or chocolate?” he yells.

“chocolate,” wonwoo yells back, shifting in bed and pulling the covers over his head. he stares at the air for a moment before saying it, waits for the door to close or the sky to fall or for mingyu to leave and never return—only silence follows. “love you,” he croaks sleepily.

“love you!” mingyu returns almost instantaneously, the lock clicking shut behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever svt fic and also a repost <3


End file.
